Detective Perry
by ThinksInWords
Summary: Ways Jeff and Britta Didn't Meet. "Oh yeah, sure," she snorts ungracefully, reaching for her cuffs on her belt. "Because standing over the body with a gun just screams innocence."


Detective Perry

Summary: Ways Jeff and Britta Didn't Meet. "Oh yeah, sure," she snorts ungracefully, reaching for her cuffs on her belt. "Because standing over the body with a gun just screams innocence."

Disclaimer: Community's not mine. Because really, this sort of stuff only happens in Abed's imagination. And in mine.

AN: This is the first in a series of AU Jeff/Britta scenario's. Most have nothing to do with the show whatsoever. There may be mentions or appearances of other characters. If anyone has a scenario you want me to write, let me know. I just might try it.

"Drop your weapon!," she shouts, hoping the idiot will actually listen.

He won't, but she still has to try – boss' orders. Because just shooting the moron standing over the dead body with a weapon in his hands is apparently a bad reflection on the Force – the police force which has no relation whatsoever to Star Wars, thank you very much – and she really shouldn't. Etcetera, and all that other poppycock.

Awesome word, that one.

"It wasn't me," the guy actually drops his gun.

"Oh yeah, sure," she snorts ungracefully, reaching for her cuffs on her belt. "Because standing over the body with a gun just screams innocence."

The murderer is actually rather good-looking, even though his look just screams "way too entitled jerk". The faux bed-look of his hair, the smirk on his face that reveals lines on his face that shouldn't be charming; even the cut of his suit suggests custom-made. She will put money on either lawyer or mob enforcer. Or just generally untrustworthy.

"I know what this looks like," he responds, letting her put the cuffs on. "I've put men away with less damning evidence. But this is just a clever frame job."

Hah! Lawyer. Called that one! If only her partner was actually here to cough up some money. But no! The rookie had done something stupid again, leaving her without back-up and without a convenient source of quick cash. Barnes was just so gullible!

"And I bet that there's just a surplus of people wanting to frame you Mr. Lawyer," she quips as she makes the cuffs just the slightest bit tighter.

"Well yeah," he groans as she pushes him forward. "I'm a jerk."

That's called stating the obvious, because he doesn't even have to open his mouth before everyone is able to peg him as a jerk who thinks he is all that. The look says it all.

"And I'm a bitch," she replies, pushing him towards the exit.

"What," her suspect seems to be confused.

"I thought we were stating the obvious," she speaks in her most faux-innocent voice. "I already knew you were a joke – err, jerk. It's the bed head, obviously."

She marches him outside of the large house, step by step, down the stairs and out the door onto the lawn. Her car is parked pretty close, so he doesn't have much of a chance to make a run for it. Somehow she doubts that he'll even try.

Opening the car door, she takes another look at him. Darn, he's not that bad looking.

"Obviously," he snipes at her, dropping into the car's back seat.

"Any likely suspects," she asks, knowing she probably won't get an answer.

There's probably an incredibly long list of people he has antagonized, just concerning the last year. This is going to take way too much work, and with Barnes in the hospital, she is going to have to do it all by herself. Which is how she does her best work, but still.

Unless… Nah, that was never going to happen.

"Hawthorne," he mutters.

"The who whating how with huh," she rolls her eyes, waiting to slam the door.

"Pierce Hawthorne," he speaks up. "I might have slept with his step-granddaughter."

Anyone who is young enough to be someone's granddaughter is too young for this guy, who looks to be in his mid-thirties. Yeah, lawyer pervert. That's just great.

"You're gross!," she makes a face.

"She was nineteen," he tries to defend himself. "And apparently I wasn't the first older guy she got around with. It was just the one night anyway."

That just makes him way more gross, preying on some damaged young girl who had serious daddy issues. She has a feeling that SGD (step-granddaughter) was not the first and would definitely not be the last innocent girl who fell for his body and his clever lines and wit. She'd been that girl once, she would know.

But this should not be cause for a frame-up!

"And now her grandpa is framing you for murder," she questions, incredulous.

"Step-grandpa," he corrects, like it's some kind of big deal. "Because he's a crazy person and he really hates me. It seems pretty obvious. Even you should get it."

Oh, wow, burn! That was really pathetic.

"Come on Grumpy McJerk," she rolls her eyes, closing the door and getting into the front seat. "To the precinct we'll go. We'll see about your story later."

She really hopes that he won't try anything stupid on the way to the precinct. Darn Barnes and his stupidity! Now she's alone with a pretty desperate murder suspect.

Yeah, that has no potential for danger at all!

"Do you believe me," the suspect asks.

"I'm not sure," she replies honestly, with a small shrug of her shoulders. "I've heard a lot of bull on the job, from the best of bullshitters. And you're good at that stuff, Lawyer Guy, but you're definitely not the best."

He scoffs at that, probably used to being thought of as the best at everything he does. Even handcuffed in the back of a police car heading towards the station, he still has a reputation as a badass lawyer to uphold. Really, she could care less about something as stupid as his precious reputation. Ugh, men!

"Look," she starts another brief speech as she brakes for a traffic light. "I'm pretty much obligated to question you about this, even though the M.E. probably won't have any results yet. Bennett's fast, but she's not that fast. Abed's probably still securing the crime scene and checking for whatever evidence you may or may not have left behind. We'll probably have to keep you in holding for the night. You can call a lawyer if you want to."

She is rambling at this point, trying to distract him from doing something stupid. Ugh, she is usually not this much of a scaredy-cat.

"Ramble much," he is rolling his eyes at her when she looks into the rearview mirror.

As she turns into the station's parking lot, he stays scarily still and silent. Almost as if he is up to something, probably some stupid escape attempt as soon as the car comes to a complete stop. She has seen this too many times before, and knows better than to stop the car in any area not completely surrounded by cops.

"Don't even try it," she warns him.

And he doesn't try it. Not what she is expecting anyway.

"You're pretty hot," he suddenly speaks.

"Uh, thanks," she is skeptical of the compliment.

This could all just be some part of his plan to escape her custody, which at this point is a rather stupid idea. The parking lot of the station is not exactly a place a wanted fugitive would want to be found in. So, she really hopes that he'll just stay in the car.

"Seriously," the guy continues. "Come look me up some time after I'm cleared."

He is so confident about that, so sure that he will be cleared of this crime even though so far, all the odds are against him. She has never been that confident of anything, has never felt deep in her gut that everything would be alright. Because really, things never really turn out completely alright. Someone always gets screwed in the end.

"Dream on, Lawyer Guy," she snipes at him, trying to keep him at a distance.

"Winger," he tries to be Bond. "Jeff Winger."

She really does not want to be charmed by him and his antics, and she really does not want to tell him her name, because that is only going to lead to another bad decision on her account. She does not do one night stands anymore. She can't, because who knows if the guy ends up being her suspect the next day? Yeah, she's paranoid like that.

"What's your name," he asks, trying to goad her into telling.

"Detective Perry," she responds, turning off the car's engine. "Now, stop it."

Another deep breath, all the switches in the right position, and she steps out of the car, almost tripping over her own feet in the process. Oh yeah, that'll make a good impression for the chauvinistic assholes who are already waiting for her to screw up.

It has nothing to do with Jeff Winger, attorney at law. Not at all.

He is cleared of all charges, of course.

It turns out he really just accidentally stumbled upon the body, and the weapon in his hand was indeed a clever frame job. But the step-grandfather has nothing to do with it at all. It is all connected to one of his co-workers, who apparently suffers from a serious case of jealousy that makes him kill people he envies and blame someone else who is a much better lawyer than Alan what's his face will ever be.

"Miss Britta Perry," Jeff Winger himself is suddenly at her desk.

"Mister Winger," she replies, hoping to get rid of him before she does something stupid like say, agree to go on a date with him. "What can I do for you?"

Oh, she definitely knows where this is going, that date he has promised her time and time again, even though she has always said no. And while he is still an entitled jackass, he is also sort of funny and very charming and actually interesting. The bad boy thing is just a perfect fit for her complex, to always want to fix men and sleep with bad boys. Her love life is a series of mistakes with hot assholes. He's just the next attempt.

"How about dinner," he puts on that charm smile she's helpless against.

"How about you stop trying," she asks, putting on the smile that has been known to render a suspect powerless to resist. "I've said no all the other times you asked."

And saying no was difficult enough when he was still due in court, but now that he is officially a cleared man, saying no is almost impossible. Not even the imminent return of Barnes and his stupid jokes about her only being able to get a date with a suspect is enough to make her rethink this. She just has to get him away before she blurts out what she really wants instead of what she thinks she should say to keep herself safe.

Safe and detached. Safe and distant.

"You won't say no this time," he is so confident of his convincing powers.

Oh, to heck with it all.

"Pick me up at seven," she orders him, as if she is still in control of this. "You can choose the restaurant. Nothing too fancy, 'cause I don't own gloves and shit. You're paying, and if you're really good, I might have sex with you after."

The gasps going through the station make it really obvious that everyone has been listening in on the conversation, even though everyone appears to be busy working on case files and talking on the phone. Wow, they are all really bad liars and fakers.

"I already have your address," Winger just looks really smug.

She's going to wipe that look right off his face when he sees her dressed up in something that does not scream "cop!". He thinks he has all the cards. He's wrong.

Oh, she is definitely going to enjoy this.

And then he turns back from the exit, marches back to her desk, grabs her and kisses her full on the mouth, catching her on a gasp. He's damn good at that too.

"Just in case I'm not a good boy," he winks at her as he ends the kiss.

"As if you're ever good," she rolls her eyes.

"You'll find out tonight," he teases, heading for the door again.

This should be interesting.

AN: The End! Stay tuned for more crazy stories in which Jeff and Britta are Jeff and Britta.


End file.
